The Box
by xegil
Summary: "Well...this is great." I said as I watched the tragedy, grimdarkness, and disaster of what unfolds in front of me
1. Chapter 1

I could hear the chirping of birds echo over the sound of the river.

I was resting comfortably, like I hadn't in years. Water was dripping somewhere, but I ignored it. The drops slapped against the leaves, rolling down to the tip and hitting the ground. I could hear snoring elsewhere, and I ignored it as well. I shifted on my bed which was just two blankets; one underneath me to separate the dirt on the ground, the other on top to keep me warn. Didn't even had a pillow, used my arm instead.

A loud scream reverberated within the camp.

* * *

"Who the fuck builds something like this?" I heard the question come from one of my men. David, I think his name was. My eyes explored every inch of the massive hallway.

"The same kind of people who can put a ground in the fucking sky." Another one answered. The hallway was...massive. About the size of two football fields. But it wasn't the size of the hallway that grabbed our attention. It was the rows and rows of guns in it.

"Is that a fucking bazooka?" I looked at what the guy was pointing at. No, it wasn't a bazooka. It was a ROW of Bazookas. Plural. "Jesus Christ."

"Better than it was in New York, eh?"

"Anything is better ever since..." I knew why he paused. We all knew. We made a vow to clean it up, to burn it all away. But now... I have no fucking clue what happens now.

"What the fuck is this?" I heard someone shout. I looked for the source of the voice, and found one of my men...standing over a blob. A floating blob. A floating blob over a pedestal.

I walked over, boots hitting the ground in each step. I saw a panel attached to the pedestal, and it was projecting a goddamn hologram. I could see...

"What the hell?" I muttered. I interacted with some of the icons. all of a sudden, the blob began to shift into...

"Holy..." We gathered around the blob as it shifted into a familiar shape.

The sound of shifting goo, was mixed in with the sound of our primed flamethrowers, and the breathing through our gasmasks. The Dollar Flu destroyed our lives, our families, our world.

The blob took on arms and legs.

Guess the Cleaners will have to try and make a new one here.

* * *

A cleaner's masked head burst into brain splatter, and he fell from the ledge after letting go of the turret.

I reloaded my rifle, and took aim. Cleaners, What a fucking stupid name.

Another shot, flamethrower tank bursts.

What? The Pyromaniacs or The Purgers already taken? You had to take the name from the janitors of your vault?

Bang, flying car falls from the sky.

Red Lights burst from the forest underneath, striking the enemy stronghold. Armored cars were melted, bodies parts ironically burned clean off and reduced to ash. Men were screaming through their gas masks, clutching their stumps, only to fall silent after losing their heads.

"Ad Victoriam!" Heavily armored men poured from the forest, as well as medium and light armored orange and brown men. That would be the knights, fucking BoS.

I pulled my rifle behind my back, turned off the visor on my ranger helmet, and climbed down the tree.

* * *

"FUCKING NAZI PIZ'DA!(CUNT)" I shouted at the top of my lungs as I stabbed him in the eyeball, blood streaking down his face, him screaming.

It took us 5 minutes to get over the fact that we could breath air on the surface and that we were in a forest. It took us 3 minutes to realize there was a ground in the sky. It took 4 seconds to realize that the nazis and commies were here as well.

A bullet whizzed by above me.

I rolled off of him to side and on the ground. I pulled my rifle up, took aim at the cover of the nazis, and opened fire. Bullets rained on to them and so they took cover, behind the standing tree trunks.

A heavy trooper appeared, and I took cover when he unleashed a torrent of fire from his mini gun. I sat down, back against the rock, dead nazi in front of me, another live one on the other side of the rock. I looked to my side to see my Polis ranger comrades, taking cover from the heavy as well. Beyond them, I could see the Commie Piz'da taking cover in their hiding spot, shooting at the heavy as well.

The mini gun fire stopped all of a sudden, and was the replaced with the sound of screaming and goring.

I peaked out of my cover and saw...

I pulled out my automatic and pulled the trigger, screaming, and not once letting go even as it closed in on all fours.

* * *

"Go! Go! Go!" I heard my squad leader shout. We began to advance, cover to cover, shooting at our enemies.

Trees were set on fire, so we avoided them. I shot a cleaner on the chest and shoulder, and he fell to the ground.

Rikers were brutal, and numerous. They would surround helpless agents and citizens alike, and beat them to death.

I shot a Riker in the legs, making him clutch them in pain without putting him out of his misery.

Cleaners were terrifying, and well equipped. Whatever they came across, they burned.

I shot the napalm tank of an incinerator, causing it to burst and send him covered in flames.

And the fucking last men, executing our agents like we're criminals, dogs to be put down.

A LMB medic was dragging a wounded soldier away, but I took the opportunity to splatter his brains out of his helmet.

And all of them, ALL OF THEM, were here. Working together. Can you fucking believe that? In New York they practically ATE each other. Food chain and all.

A red beam shot out and hit an LMB straight in the upper torso, burning it clean off.

But we? we ATE ALL OF THEM. The top of the food chain. We're the Division, we're the good guys. The guys meant to bring back civilization. You? you are the SAVAGES. The bad fucking animal that has to be put down.

Metal feet clanged on the ground and ran by.

And these 'MBR' or 'Brotherhood' or 'Nomia' fuckwads are the same. The only reason they're helping us is because they don't want you in charge of this big fucking tower...

I looked across the lake. A massive pointed tower was sprung out of a small island in the middle, its surface black and monolithic.

* * *

My eyes flew open, and I got up from my makeshift bed, revolver in hand. The others in the tents around me did the same. We all stood silently, on watch, Rifles, pistols, and bows in hand.

I looked to him, his 'Lucille' in his belt, a rifle in his arms. He saw me, and nodded me go back. The whole camp began to form defensive circles, each facing out with their weapons.

Then I saw some rustling. We took aim. One of Negan's men came running out. He saw us.

"RUNNNNNRGH!" He was interrupted when the fucking monster slammed its sledgehammer down his head, basically replacing his head with the hammer.

"MUTIES!" The Camp erupted in panicked screams.

* * *

 **A/N: New story I have begun to work on. Trying to make this smaller and more realistic than the last one. Please Review, I want to know if this is going in the right direction.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Orion's Arm world building project (oops. Spoiler) or The Division, fallout, Metro 2033, and The Walking Dead.**


	2. Chapter 2

"AHH!AHHHHH!AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The women screamed as the savaged monster dragged her away.

"SHERRY!" Dwight shouted, and fired his rifle at it. The shots caused chunks the size of my fingers to fly off its flesh, green skin stained by red blood. According to the Nomai "Box" survival guide, this sort of damage inflicted on a 'Supermutant' was classified as one thing: Not Enough.

The mutant kept dragging Sherry as if the bullets were just rocks, and the sight of them was lost among the trees.

Another stomper was charging at us, but it was quickly killed by a shotgun blast to face. "Come get some you FUCKS!" The shotgun wielder shouted, shooting at another one. One wielding a sledgehammer began charging at him. He blasted its arm off, but it continued with the hammer in one arm, only for its head to burst into red splatter. A tomahawk flew through the air and lodged itself across the shotgunner's left eye and nose.

I was shooting with an automatic rifle, almost pointlessly spraying at the direction that the stompers are coming from. There were rifles among their ranks, but many had charged wielding axes, sledgehammers, and even nail boards. A particularly armored one was charging at my circle with a fire axe in hands. I aimed at its head and fired at it. It staggered the first burst of fire, then fell the second burst.

A black shape flew from behind the treeline, and struck one of the defensive circles. The 5 in the circle were knocked down, and it was revealed that the black object was really a person, human, one of our guys. I turned to where he flew from, and saw the biggest motherfucker I had ever seen.

It was big and green. It's face was locked in a permanent, ugly sneer. It's left shoulder was bulging up, like a hunch. It wore a torn loincloth rag around its waist and crouch area. A metal chain was wrapped around it's right shoulder to left armpit, attaching a fucking shopping cart to it's back.

And in It's right hand was a fucking fire hydrant on a stick.

The giant charged from the clearing in the forest, right at us.

"RUN!" I shouted to everyone. All the defensive circles began to scatter, running to the safest direction. A man was peppered with bullets, courtesy of a Stomper wielding a mini-gun. I duck as I ran.

"Carl!" I shouted. I couldn't leave him this time. Not in this place.

I ran to a another section of the camp. The place where he was resting.

Negan had separated us, making sure he could keep control over me. It worked.

The place was empty already, everyone having scattered when they heard the Behemoth.

I looked behind me.

People were still scattering everywhere. I saw several people being riddled with bullet holes, others being butchered with axes, cracked open with hammers, or just beaten to death with fists. I saw the behemoth cornering someone, and heard a scream being cut off by the behemoth swinging it's fire hydrant down.

I began running when a group of stompers saw me.

* * *

"DIE!" A deep voiced Stomper behind me shouted. I continued to duck as I ran, dodging trees. Bullets were whizzing by, missing me, some hitting trees. Luckily, this place was more populated than the last.

I came to a clearing, and I could see another camp.

A camp actually wasn't the right wording. It was more like a fort, walled off with sharpened logging and barbed wire fencing hear and there. I could see guard towers surrounding the walls on the inside. It was morning, so I got a good look at the guards.

Nazis.

They were little more than a roving gang, raiding and pillaging a settlement here and there. The little information I have on them are from the recruits from settlements they survived being raided by them. They killed anything nonwhite, far from Aryan, and nonhuman. Aryan or near Aryan men and women were either recruited or kidnapped to bolster their ranks.

And they had a pleasant mutual disdain for the Stompers.

I began running towards the camp. A guard on one of the towers took notice of me, and pointed his gun at me. He stopped pointing it at me when he saw what was behind me. He began shouting to the other towers in what I presume was Russian. That's when I made a hard turn to the right.

As I began to reenter the forest, gunfire and the roar of Stompers erupted from behind me.

* * *

This place was different.

Those were my thoughts as I was walking through the forest. Negan, being the strategist he is, propped up another camp in the direction I was walking towards. He knew that it was bad to keep your eggs in one basket, so he designed an outpost system. The one I was heading towards was the designated '1st fallback' point. If, at any point, our group became separated, that was the first camp we regrouped at.

I would've left him if I could, but he had Carl and the others. And if he didn't have Carl and the Others, if they were separated from him too, then they would go back to him.

Because this place was different.

I looked up into the sky, above the trees. I could see the thin clouds, and instead of a sun, there was a beam of light streaking across the sky. The light wasn't as bright, but I could feel heat emanating from it. Above the light, however, was not blue sky; It was ground.

There was ground. In. The Fucking. Sky.

It was that...night, when we appeared. No flash, No warning, No blackout, No one grabbing us. Our surroundings just...switched. The cars disappeared, the night sky became morning with a ground in it, the roads disappeared and tree layout changed.

We all proceeded to freak the fuck out. Or At least Negan's people did, we were already in shock before.

I reached the camp, unfortified in comparison to the Nazi camp. It was just shelters dotting a forest clearing, guards posted inside dug out holes surrounding the outside of the camp.

One saw me, and pointed his rifle at me. "DOWN ON THE GROUND! DOWN ON THE GROUND! NOW!"

I put my hands up, flashlights on me as got on my knees.

Three men strode towards me, rifles raised and pointed at me. Another was behind them, only this wasn't a guard.

He wore his signature leather jacket, his grizzled beard, his favorite barbed wire bat in hand, and that omnipresent smirk on his face, despite the loss we just suffered.

He stood before me, my head up to his waist, and he said. "...Rick."


End file.
